


Time for Little Red to meet the Big Bad Wolf

by Elica



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Model Derek, Model Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elica/pseuds/Elica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jackson and Allison, sport clothes designers genius, need a photoshoot for their young company, they call the Martin's agency. Erica Reyes organises a shooting with Stiles "Little Red" Stilinski and Derek "Big Bad Wolf" Hale. And then...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From this prompt: http://wolfflock.tumblr.com/post/47099058150/little-red-stiles-model-au-little-red-is-the  
> I really hope this doesn't suck to much though...  
> I LOVE comments.  
> And if you want to betaread this, go and ask me :)
> 
> Oh, and no sexy times in this chapter ^^

“So, we’re here for your advertisement, right?”

Erica Reyes was quite excited on this Monday morning. She was not a morning person, and definitely not a Monday person. But today was her big day. Since she began working as a commercial for Martin’s agency, it was the first contract she managed to get. She was bringing a new client to the company and hoped it would go well so her boss, Lydia, would be satisfied. Granted, the New Life Sport was a young clothes line. They only had one shop in San Francisco, and it was a very tiny place with just enough room for max five people. But the two cofounders were geniuses. They caught the eye of some skate board punk band and had more and more success among the skinny kids. They were about to open a new shop, bigger, in a fairly popular part of the city.

“Things are going wild at the moment,” said Allison Argent. “We have this new place, we’ll have to hire one employee for the shop, so we can continue to design without having to deal with the selling.”

“And we really need to expand our target,” added Jackson Whittemore, the second head of New Life Sport. The guy was a shit. He didn’t introduce himself, barely shook hands with Erica, and was all opposite to Allison easy going attitude. But Erica had seen his design. The guy was not stealing his reputation.

“We have the eye of the skate-boards’ kids, all right. We want to get a grip on the athletes too,” he continued. “We’re going to design training uniforms for cheerios and football players of two different high school, and we’re going to help with the Breast Cancer marathon in four months. We want to touch everyone.”

“That and I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that the majority of sports’ shops haven’t any good equipment for women. They target men and then sell sexy outfits that are not what we want to do.”

“Oh, I feel you,” replied Erica, remembering the hell she had to deal with for not wanting a rose and sexy outfits for her morning jogs. She like sexy very much, but not in the morning when she was running in the park, thank you very much.

“Boys and men, girls and women, all type of sports. That’s what we want. We’re new and we don’t want to fill in a case.”

“You’ve got ambition, and I like that. So…”

Erica turned on her ipad to them, showing the different options the Martin’s company could offer him.

“Since you’re quite new, you have one advantage: you can do what you want. You have one disadvantage: no money.”

Before Jackson could protest, she raised her hand: “I know, you have a budget, but, believe me, not enough to cover all Cisco with big images. You have to have a direct and strong campaign. Something that people will remember. The fact that you have these deals with high schools and charity is good: you’ve got two types of population at reach, teens and moms. Now you have three other targets we’ll try to grab: kids, young women and young men.”

She pointed a precise point on the screen: “Kids are expensive. Models have specific contracts, they can’t work all day, obviously, and parents can be very protective, which is for the best. But we have three or four kids that could interest you: Olivia is a cute girl, she’s five and very professional. Carlos is seven, latino and does break dancing and classical dancing. Then we have twins, Mary and John, mixed kids, very cute, aged ten. Kids’ advertisement is an option. It’s a risky business and an expensive one. But if you’re opened to it, we can arrange something.”

“I like designing kids’ stuff,” said Jackson. He had a sweet look on him when watching their four models. Erica smiled a little and went for the second option.

“Women. Our boss here is a feminist. Here we’re claiming for all visions of women and against slut shaming. Which may be why I’d got this job in the first place. You can’t know how many places refused me after uni because of how I looked. Anyway, we have two models that could interest you. First Gina, latino, ex striper. She has a lot of tattoo that lots of companies do not appreciate, but she fills your style. She does a lot of surfing and lifts some weights.”

The photo showed them a woman all made of lean muscles and aggressive look. Allison looked impressed.

“I like her. She would be fantastic for our gym line. The one we have inspired by science-fiction and Jenette Goldstein.”

“Allison is a fan. She wants to have her to model.”

“One day Jackson. One day she will.”

“Ok. For the second one we have two models: Virginia, she has a lot of experience, is a little chubby and is your real girl-next-door girl.”

“We’re making lots of stuff for women with breasts,” said Allison.

“We don’t like the philosophy of “if you’re skinny, go to the gym, if you’re not, we don’t even have tee-shirt for you”, if you see what I mean. This Virginia has breasts and all, she looks normal, I kind of like her.”

Erica nodded, taking notes along their discussion. But she had another one.

“And this is Kim, she has Asiatic features. She’s quite small for a model but has good energy and a great charisma in front of a photograph.”

“The choice is hard.”

Jackson went back to the children photos.

“We’re talking about individuals here. I don’t think we’ll have a budget to hire all your models but I like the idea of a family shooting. So what if we had the twins, plus Virginia, and… Do you have a black model?”

Erica smiled warmly.

“Actually we have! He’s on my list for your males’ shooting. Vernon Boyd…”

She clicked on the screen, showing a muscular man with bland face. He was his boyfriend but then, her clients didn’t need to know.

“He smiles during the shoot, don’t be afraid. Actually, I think Mr. Whittemore has a great idea. He’d worked with Virginia before and they have great chemistry. Plus with the mixed kids, they would do a blast. We don’t see mixed family often in advertisement. You may rise hostility from it.”

“We’re in Cisco and we’re opened mind. We don’t need stupid people in our shop.”

“I’m taking in terms of money making,” argued Erica. “I agree with you, but we’re talking business here.”

Allison thought for a moment then spoke: “If we’re doing something, we’re doing it right. I want this mixed family. And I want to see Gina’s tattoos and Kim standing next to a much taller model. People need to see this more often.”

“Ok. Now, since you already chose Boyd, I have two other male models for you. I think you’ll like them.”

Another click and two male appeared on the screen.

“First, Derek Hale. He’s in modeling since quite a time, began at six, stopped at fifteen due to private business, and entered back in business two years ago. He has done some shoots for gay magazines, nothing explicit but he made a blast and became sort of an icon. He’s not from Castro though. He’s like a hermit. A very paradoxical guy.”

“He’s built like a God.”

Allison didn’t look impressed. Derek was clearly not his type, but she was sensing the advantages of having a guy like Derek. Jackson looked a little uninterested, maybe a jealousy he didn’t want to show.

“And then, Stiles Stilinski. He is not as skinny as he looked. He’s a debutant but we put a lot of hope in his job. He has a natural talent in front of a camera.”

“He doesn’t look sporty.”

Jackson looked doubtful.

“Yes, he doesn’t. He has energy though, can move his body just fine.”

“What about a gay shoot?”

Erica sat back, thinking. It was a risk. Derek didn’t like to do shoot with other people, and Stiles… His contract didn’t include doing sexy stuff or homosexual stuff. There was something joyful about him and Erica was more or less sure he was _very_ opened minded.

Allison was silent.

“Oh My God,” she said then. “I know him! He has done a shooting for a music magazine! Wasn’t he the one with the red hood?”

“Yeah, that’s him. The photograph was not that good and my boss was angry at him because she really wanted Stiles’ premiere to be a success.”

“Isn’t Derek’s nickname Big Bad Wolf?” asked Jackson.

“Only in erotic stuff,” pointed Erica.

Jackson reddened a little then shrugged.

“I find it funny though. I want them together on the shoot. They’ll be in my new style. The women will wear Allison’s, and for the family we’ll try a mix.”

“I’ll show you the contract then.”

 

***

 

Stiles woke with a start, hearing his phone ringing somewhere near his bed. He had fallen asleep on his computer again. So he had a deadline in three days and his text was still unfinished and crap. And he had forgotten to save it again.

“Fuck. Must mean the job wasn’t for me anyway,” he said closing his computer and going to find his phone.

The call came from Martin’s. He had only had one contract with them, enough to pay the rent two months in a row, and then he had to get back at the restaurant. Being a writer was hard, hard enough to fall asleep instead of writing. On an old computer because he hadn’t the money to buy a new one.

“Please, please, please, don’t let them fire me,” he prayed as he checked the message.

Erica’s voice came to his ear: “Stiles, we may have a deal for you. Call me back to take an appointment. The sooner the better.”  

Stiles called back immediately, pumping the air in a victory sign. His landlord was beginning to eye him suspiciously and he really didn’t want to go back to his father or, worst, to flat-sharing.

“Hi, Stiles’ online!”

“Kiddo, don’t do this. You know it’s not funny,” answered Erica. “When are you free?”

“Let me guess…”

“Oh please. Say you can come now. Don’t need to check your imaginary agenda. We’ll pay the bus ticket.”

And she hung up.

Stiles sighed. He hoped the contract was for something better than playing a false guitar hero for a bad music mag’.

 

***

 

Derek was coming back from his morning jog when the phone rang.

Only three people would call him home: his sister, Isaac, an artist he was modeling for, and a friend, and Erica Reyes. Because she was the one who gave him the possibility to have such a pretty house. Not big, but far away enough from the city to be calm and comfy. For him.

“Yes, Derek Hale.”

“Hi, Wolfy!”

“Don’t call me that.”

Erica laughed. She always laughed. He wondered why he was socializing with her.

“Why are you calling me?”

“I’ve got a deal for you. Meet me for lunch?”

“No gay porn.”

“Promise. It’s for a sport line. I’m already waiting for you.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My God, so much good reviews for the first chapter. THANK YOU!  
> First encounter here :)

Stiles received a text from Erica with the address for the meeting. He was delighted to see it was a tiny restaurant near the Martin’s agency. He was hungry. He had just eaten a sandwich with coffee in the evening and then… Well, sleeping on his computer tended to make him forget any breakfast. Plus he had to take a shower and feel a little bit human. It wouldn’t work for him if he was going to a modeling rendez-vous looking like a hobo.

Erica waved to him from the table she was sitting at. She was there with a pretty brown haired girl and a… Stiles lost any thought he could have in his head. It was the Big Bad Wolf, the one and only. Of course, like every other kid his generation, he knew Derek Hale from the advertisements he made for kids’ cereals years ago. But he also came across some other works, like posing in boxers in some gay magazine and the guy was unreal. Yep, whatever he did this morning, Stiles was going to look like a hobo.

“Hi Stiles! Come here! I got you your favorite coffee… And you seem to need it asap.”

Stiles sat, after shaking hands with the brunette (“Allison Argent, our client”) and nodding to Derek.

Erica let them all have their command (“No curly fries, Stiles, but I’ll indulge you a burger because I like you”) before going into business. Stiles saw that Allison was a veggie and Derek had a very healthy order before him. He felt fat and young and so out of place now.

“Do you know what New Life Sport is?” she asked as an introduction.

To his surprise, Derek nodded along with him. He had one of their shirts: it was shiny, a little geeky and surprisingly original in the amount of shiny and geeky shirts on the market.

“I have one of their shirt,” he said.

“Their running clothes are good,” added Derek.

Of course he would be a runner. A sporty. An athlete. With muscles and all.

“Ok, so Allison is one of the head of the brand. Her colleague is meeting with other models as we speak. They’re programming a campaign for their new store and their new line. They have five spots now: kids, teenagers, charity, men and women. Teens and charity are dealt with, for the moment. So we’re going to make three different campaign: family, women and men. As you may know, New Sport Line is a very politically aware company. They will display mixed family, independent women and have the idea to present homosexuality.”

“Kim should be excited,” said Stiles. He loved Kim. She was fun and witty and was the first one to introduce him to gay friendly places the first time he set foot in San Francisco. She was the one who gave him an introduction to Martin’s agency too.

Erica smiled but Allison was the first to react: “Kim made gay campaign too?”

“Not really. Our clients are still a little cold on the lesbian side. It’s a difficult one, seeing that, done badly, it can be seen as a male fantasy. Clients can be shy and not so courageous. But yes, Kim is a fierce figure of the lesbian group here.”

“This option is interesting.”

Allison kept quiet before adding: “We’ll see with her if the first campaign succeeds. But now, we were thinking about you two. You’re young, good looking but with different figures. I know that Mr. Hale has no problem with the gay side of it, since we are not doing anything explicit. You will just have to act like a couple, not sexbuddies. The question now is for you, Mr. Stilinski. Are you up to this?”

Stiles’ thoughts were blank. He only registered “couple”, “gay”, “Derek Hale” and… “no sexy stuff”. That was a shame. Or not. He wasn’t ready to have a boner in front of people. That was a so bad memory he didn’t want to repeat anytime soon.

“I’m cool with it. But sport? Do you think I’ll fit in?”

Allison gave him a sweet smile.

“Don’t worry. We target everyone. Derek may be the obvious choice, but we want everybody to feel at ease buying our stuff. You’re not doing sport just to be fit and beautiful. You’re doing sport to feel good, whatever your shape is. Plus, you have the shape of someone doing yoga or soccer or even base-ball. You have the shoulders and all. It will be good.”

“If you say so. The last time I had a ball between my feet was in junior high though. I surf a bit. Never had the chance to do yoga but I tend to be too nervous to do it.”

“Usually it’s because people are nervous that they do yoga,” said Derek in a grumpy voice.

Ok, now he was being made fun of. Great. Super. Stilinski for the win.

Erica turned them back to the matter at hands: “Allison and Jackson gave me three sorts of clothes for you: gym clothes, swimming and surfing clothes and basket-ball clothes. We’ll do the scouting with the other models. For the gym we’ll go with Kim and Gina. For the beach, with the “family group”, as known as Boyd and Virginia. I don’t know if the little twins will be free for it, I’ still have to ask their parents. For basket-ball, Derek, you have a good knowing of places. So if you have anything in mind, send the address. To me. Ok?”

Everybody nodded. Stiles looked at their dessert. He had ice-cream. Derek and Allison a simple green tea. He saw Erica smirk at him. Great, just great.

 

***

 

The kid was interesting but Derek didn’t know why Erica would have chosen him. He didn’t look like someone who would do sport. Ok, he understood Allison’s remarks, but still. That was strange. But he was not here to discuss a choice. The only thing he could have remarks on, was to do a photo shoot with another model. That was a problem.

Well not a problem, but he wasn’t used to that. He preferred working alone with an artist. Even makeup and lights were annoying, the only thing that interested him was the camera. Maybe because his mother used to be a photograph. He loved the mystery and the little magic a camera could do to transform reality. That’s why he liked working with Isaac. The boy had magic hands and eyes. Derek liked his work. They were working on a new series called “Wolf” (he would never Erica learn this) and they really hoped to catch the eye of a gallery. It would do good for the kid. Modeling? It was for the money mainly, though sometimes he could meet a good photographer too.

So, he didn’t feel anything when Stilinski said he was good with the gay scenario. Or the physical question. Guy had a self trust problem, allright, but his questioning was normal. Sport advertisements were not something a guy like him would usually fit in.

“Ok boys. Since we reach an oral agreement I’ll need you to do three things: first, coma with me for your contracts. Then, tomorrow morning, you’ll meet Allison and Jackson at their store to try some of their outfits. Third thing, try to speak with each other. I know you two have good chemistry with a camera, but we need you to have a good one with each others. I’ve reserved a restaurant for the two of you tonight and then you’ll pass the day together tomorrow. Our first shooting will be at the gym, except if the weather is good for the beach.”

 

***

 

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Stiles was far less stressed than before. The money he would get for this contract did a lot for his mood. Three months of rent. He will still have to work for the restaurant to pay for food, but he would also have time to find a publisher. Or maybe find an agent, but agents were expensive.

They were sitting in a family restaurant at the beach. The place was cool and had the best mojitos Stiles had ever drunk. The only thing was that Derek was not a very talkative person. He just shrugged when Stiles asked his question.

“You don’t have anything besides modeling? I guess you must make a lot of money so maybe you don’t need…”

“I do fine, but not that much. I like modeling but not for the money.”

“You like to pose in tiny boxers?” asked Stiles, grinning.

The look Derek gave him was not that funny though.

“No. This is for money. But I’m modeling for artists. Photographs, painters, sculptors. Sometimes I go to schools to be a model for students too.”

“Ho.”

Clearly, Stiles was impressed. He didn’t know such a job existed. For him, modeling, except for the big fashion industry, was just a good way to get money for students and so on. Crappy writers like him.

“Could have I saw one of these artists?”

“I don’t know. They’re pretty alternative artists. Isaac Lahey is a good photographer. We’re preparing an exhibition for next year.”

“I don’t know him, I admit. Maybe you could show me.”

The proposition seemed to surprise Derek but he made no comment about it.

The waiter came to serve them their food, shrimps and rice and sweet peppers. It was good and they stayed silent for a while just to eat.

“And you? What’s your job? Student?”

“Not anymore. But… I don’t really have a job. Not yet.”

Stiles was feeling a little shameful. Ok Derek was dealing with artists, so he may understand. Still, he couldn’t deal with the fact that claiming to be a writer without having published anything was a little stupid.

“So you’re just wandering, waiting for the big one photoshoot that would make you famous?”

There was a bit of mockery in Derek’s voice. Stiles didn’t like it.

“I have dreams too, thank you very much. Modeling is just to pay my rent. Not that I model a lot, seeing how I look.”

“How do you look?”

“Oh, please… Martin’s agency took me in because I’m not the usual one, like Kim who’s small, or Gina and her tattoos. They like originality, but clients… not so much. But last time this saved me from going back to my father so… If there’s an occasion, I’ll take it.”

“So what’s your real dream?”

Stiles picked up his last shrimps, sighing.

“I’m a writer. Well, a bad writer. That’s what I do. People tends to think that I do nothing but I’m working. It’s just… all in my head, you know. There’s nothing I can really show and it can be frustrating.”

Very few people understood this, Stiles knew. People saw writers like wanabe stars, selling thousands of books by just snapping their fingers. When you told them that no, they couldn’t buy your books yet, they tended to look at you with irony, annoyance or, worst, anger. But he didn’t find this in Derek’s eyes. His face was soft and it was doing wonderful things to his beauty.

“It’s good to have dreams. The more you fight for it, the best the result will be.”

“If I was that optimistic…”

“You are, or you would have let it go sooner. Am I wrong?”

Stiles smiled back: “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

 

***

 

The kid was curious and interesting, which was unsettling, if Derek was honest with himself. He thought he was a student, and here he was facing a writer, dealing with lack of confidence and a very hateful inferiority complex about his body. Which was stupid because he didn’t look that bad. Though the layers of plaid and shirts were hiding a good deal of it.

The dinner passed in good conversations, and they finally decided to exchange some of their favorite stuff the next time they’ll see each other: he was going to lend Stiles one of his favorite artist’s book, while Stiles would give him a K. Dick’s novel (“it’s fantastic! Believe me!”).

When it was time to go their each separate ways, Stiles looked at him blushing:

“You know, I didn’t imagine you like that.”

“You knew me?”

“Well. I’m… I’ve read some stuff you were in. The tiny boxer’s ads. So, I thought… I didn’t…”

“You thought I was a jock with great body like I thought you were a student?”

“Something like that. Sorry.”

Derek shrugged.

“Don’t be. Lots of people make the assumption.”

“Yeah, guess so. Well… See you then.”

Stiles went his way to the next bus stop while Derek reached his car. He still was a little annoyed by the couple’s photo shoot but maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. He hadn’t been in groups’ photos since Laura and Cora so he knew it would be strange.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, Derek didn’t know why Stiles was so unsure of his shape. He was not built like him, but had lean muscles that just needed, maybe, a little training, but not that much. He was beautiful.
> 
> Which was an unprofessional thought at best.

“Red Hood and Big Bad Wolf? Really?”

“Boyd Dear, don’t question my capacity to put fun in our lives. Be pretty and smile.”

Boyd rolled his eyes, sitting up to join the makeup team. It was a sunny day and they had found a park to make the first family shooting. Since it was Saturday, the kids were able to work for some hours and were having fun with Danny, their photographer.

Erica came back to her planning. Derek and Stiles were supposed to go to the store this morning. She had a minimal but good come back from the last evening by Derek, but no news from Stiles. That was a little unsettling since the guy was a vomit machine when it came to talk, may it be with his mouth or by texts. And… nothing.

“You will not have the balls to refuse this contract, you little shit,” she said.

She liked Stiles. The guy was fun and talented. Even if he didn’t know it. But she was dead serious in business, as serious as her boss. She didn’t like to be left in the dark.

In the park, Danny and Boyd were trying to entertain the twins while Virginia was changing in another set of clothes. Jackson was discussing with her before going to Danny then joining the light team, and going back to the twins. The guy was restless. A little too much for Erica but if it was his first advertisement, it was normal.

She took her phone to call Stiles, feeling already tired and on edge.

“Stiles. What are you doing?”

“’M sorry?”

She frowned: “You just got up? It’s nine already!”

“Just one second.”

There was some noise on the other side of the line then Stiles’ voice came back, clearer.

“Yeah, I just woke up but I’ll be there on time. Don’t worry.”

“I was waiting Stiles. How was your evening?”

“Good. It’s a fascinating guy, you know.”

A headache was growing in Erica’s head.

“You’re not jumping on the guy, Stiles. Understand?”

“Jumping? No! Wait! Not in this sense! I mean, yes he is fucking hot but no! I would not do that. We talk about art in fact.”

“Really…”

“And then I came back and saw my computer and I had the need to write so I wrote… I stopped at four I think. So yeah, ‘m not really sorry but I’ll be here.”

“I’m happy for you, honey, but this job is important, understand? Scott will pick you up in twenty.”

“Ok. I’ll be ready. Bye!”

 

***

 

Stiles was late. Derek arrived at the store at ten, precisely. Of course Erica had sent a message saying the meeting wouldn’t be until half past ten but it was always good to be a little early. But now Derek worried. Stiles was not here. Perhaps he hadn’t appreciated their dinner together. Or he was feeling too unsure to do it? Maybe it was Derek s fault. H was so sure of himself concerning modeling and pushing Stiles to ignore his insecurities could have been a bad move.

"He’s arriving," said Allison, coming back from her desk.

She was dispatching different clothes on benches. Derek eyed the overly colored ones with suspicion. He hoped they were for Stiles. He didn’t do colors well.

“You’re very silent. Music doesn’t bother you?” Allison asked.

Derek shrugged. He sat on a chair, reading through a Japanese book. He soon heard a soft music coming from the little stereo in the corner of the room.

“This is Jackson’s source of inspiration. Well, for the last four weeks,” explained Allison, pointing the book. “Japan has very specific working clothes, both practical and traditional. He wanted to adapt this to the hiking clothes we’re doing for next year.”

“You want to evolve from the old plaid and life-jacket every men has in his dresser for the last fifty years?”

“I think that’s Jackson’s motive. He hates plaid.”

“Who hates plaid?”

Stiles was at the door, looking like he just fell of his bed. His hair was distracting to say the least. And he was wearing a plaid under a red hoodie. And a tee-shirt under the plaid. God, it was still warm outside and he had that much layers? Perhaps his complex ran deeper than Derek first thought. But then, why was he modeling?

“Ok boys,” started Allison. “Go the backroom and down to your underwear. I’m closing the store until two, so we’ll have time for fitting.”

Derek followed Stiles to the tiny room, wondering if it would be awkward. But the boy just took off his clothes without glancing once at him, and got back in the store in less than two minutes. He was just wearing a boxer and Batman’s socks and… Frankly, Derek didn’t know why Stiles was so unsure of his shape. He was not built like him, but had lean muscles that just needed, maybe, a little training, but not that much. He was beautiful.

Which was an unprofessional thought at best.

Stiles was already messing around Allison’s clothes, silently humming a rock song or something like that, when Derek came to them. The girl clapped her hands together:

“So, since we’re doing the gym shoot first, I handed you shirts, shorts and pants. We have a contract with a sport shoe designer from Santa Monica so you’re going to have their models. You can choose whatever you want.”

She took back a shirt from Stiles’ hand, dismissing his protest to put it back on the bench. There was less colors than Derek thought. Allison had chosen variety of black, grey, light blue, white and red. Nothing to funky for his taste.

“So, we thought, for Derek, of black pants and a white or grey tank top. Maybe with a sweatshirt. And for Stiles, baggy shorts, grey or black, and red shirt. What do you think?”

She handed each of them their outfits. Stiles immediately put the shorts on. It made him look very young but it was fitting him well. The tee-shirt was a little small for him and then Derek had to look away. That guy would be fantastic if he did a little work on his abs. Derek could give him lessons. Yes he could.

 

***

 

Stiles was fairly proud of himself. He did well: took his shower in time, didn’t bother Scott that much, could dress off and up in front of Derek Hale without any problem, and so on. It way have been because his head was very far away all day long.

He had the best idea of a story the night before and was making up tons and tons of scripts, characters and places that he would need to put on paper as soon as he’d go home. So he had half washed himself, didn’t answer to any of Scott’s questions, which was rude, didn’t pick on Derek’s spectacular body and didn’t listen to anything Allison said to them. Unprofessional. But for a good cause.

He only managed to catch himself when, at the end of the trying on, Derek handed him a large book.

“Hm, what’s that?”

Derek looked horrified and his face closed up.

“We said we’ll take something to each other today. This is an artist I like so… I thought…”

“Oh sh…. Oh I’m very sorry!”

Stiles Stilinski, King of The Social Entertainment.

“I… I forgot, I’m so sorry.”

Quick, quick! Stiles needed to make it better. He glanced at the clock on the wall, behind Allison who was packing back the shirts.

“It’s only four! We can go buy something to drink and then I’ll go quickly to my apartment and take you back the book!”

“Don’t bother… It…”

“No, I insist!”

They left the store. They were going to see Allison again the next day, for the shooting. Stiles followed Derek to his car, though his bus was the other way around (Scott left after he dropped off)

“Please Derek. I’m sorry. I was writing all night and really, I’m sorry.”

Derek sighed.

“Ok. Where’s your place?”

Stiles stopped dead.

“You want to go to my place?”

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his place but it was not the fanciest apartment ever. Far from that.

“Yeah. It’s no big deal.”

“Ok.”

 

The “apartment” was, in fact, just one big room. There was a little kitchen on the left and an even smaller bathroom on the right. Near the bathroom door, a bed surrounded by books. Near the kitchen door, a desk, with his computer, notebooks, pens, and maybe two or three boxes of Chinese food. Once, Stiles tried to decorate a little so there was a screen between the desk and the bed, and a poster of an obscure Spanish horror movie on the wall. That was all, exception made of a little dresser where all his clothes were.

“I know it’s not super rich and all but… It’s my place,” said Stiles, putting the empty food boxes away. He found some coffee in the kitchen and made two cups, not waiting for Derek to say anything. He had nothing to offer him in fact. Not even a cake or something. He didn’t even have another chair!

Derek didn’t seem to mind though. He was looking at his books. Stiles wondered if any dirty socks or boxers were lying there. Big chance that some would.

“Flat mates don’t agree with my style of life, and anything bigger doesn’t agree with my bank account so… Here… There’s no one to argue that I’m living the night, no one to shout because I like my food spicy and my bathroom untidy.”

“And your bedroom…”

“It’s tiny! I don’t have the place!”

“Just kidding. I had a room like that when I was younger.”

Derek accepted his cup of coffee while Stiles searched through his books to find the K. Dick’s one.

“You have a lot of fairy tales…”

“I’m a fan. I read a lot of science-fiction when I was in high-school but, you know, growing up, I came back to the classics. I love them.”

“You’re writing for the children?”

Stiles sat up, book in hands. Derek was leaning against the wall while he was sitting on the bed.

“Now, Mister Wolf, I have to remind you that fairy tales are hardly for children. Some, stupid, schools even censored them here and there. I’m writing about hunters and princes and little orphans girls, and even about wolves, but I’m writing for the adults too.”

Derek smiled at that and Stiles’ heart melted.

“And what are you writing right now.”

“Spoilers, Mister Wolf. I’ll tell you one day, perhaps.”

When Derek left, leaving him in front of his computer to finish up his new script, Stiles felt altogether full and empty. It was strange, but for the first time ever, he wouldn’t have minded to have someone near him while he was working on his novel.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You were hit on?”  
> “Yeah. The guy wasn’t that bad, but persistent. And I freaked out. I never put a foot in a gym again after that. I didn’t think that I would be that bad today but, frankly, the photographer is creepy.”  
> Derek shrugged: “I didn’t notice. Some photographers in the gay stuff tend to lead their photoshoot like they’re filming a porn. I’m used to it.”

Stiles arrived at the gym the next day five minutes before the _rendez-vous_. He was quite proud of himself. In fact, after Derek’s departure, he had just pinned a big paper on his wall and managed his script with multi colored pens before going to sleep. Writing was not an option because he wanted to write all chapters at the same time and it was not a good idea (he had experienced that before)

Speaking of the wolf (hu), Derek arrived soon after him, two cups of coffee in hands.

“For you,” he said simply. “For the one you gave me yesterday.”

“There’s a gap between watery crappy coffee and Starbuck’s coffee but… Thank you!”

Derek smiled and Stiles felt his heart squeeze. He was so not falling for this guy; he had enough (bad) experience to know that this kind of things didn’t happen. So he let himself be his usual self. No attempt at flirting, not trying to be all seductive and pushy. Just a colleague. And it was so easy.

“So, why are you writing?” Derek asked as they were dressing up in the locker room.

“Why are you modeling?”

“I asked first.”

Stiles frowned: “Right.”

He didn’t know how to put it because it was quite a dramatic story. But Derek was looking at him with his big green eyes and Stiles was a weak man.

“My mom… She died when I was eight. I had tried a lot of things to… pass this, you know?”

Derek nodded, serious.

“I had a lot of… stuff like breathing problems and so on. And I needed to get my energy out but it was hard. Then once my counselor asked me to write something. Not about a memory of my mum or what I was feeling or anything. She was just trying to catch my attention for more than twenty minutes.”

“And you like that.”

Stiles smiled widely: “It was a very crappy story about a robot which have to fight a monstrous other robot while the pilot was transforming into a zombie; I read it again some years ago, it was horrible.”

“How did you…”

“I had a babysitter who loved anime. She made me watch something that really shouldn’t have been in front of the eyes of a nine years old, I swear.”

Derek actually laughed at that and that made Stiles very happy. So happy in fact that he didn’t realize that they were already waiting for the photographer.

This one, Matt Daehler, was looking at them with a strange face. He was kind of creepy but maybe every photographer was creepy. Or something. Stiles had more problems with the settings.

He was feeling crampy and that, he thought he could manage. Again, he was wrong.

 

***

 

Stiles was calm and funny when they were in the locker room but Derek sensed him tensing as soon as they were on set. He couldn’t know why because that was not a very difficult one, just your current fitness center. The machines were on one side, and there was a little free space with mirrors for personal training. At the other end of the room were two other spaces for groups’ lessons.

Erica was there with the make-up artist and Allison. Daehler was discussing the lights with a technician and that was all. The women models weren’t there yet.

“Is everything all right?”

Stiles startled and looked at him, smiling: “Yeah, yeah. Just a little nervous.”

Derek thought he lied but didn’t push. He had to be professional now. People tended to say he was grumpy; the fact was, he needed to concentrate before a shooting. Isolate himself a little and be one hundred percent in his work.

But Stiles obviously wasn’t ok. He kept glancing at the photographer and, oddly enough, at the machines. When Daehler mentioned them to sit on a bench, he nearly fell over it.

“Do as if you were taking a break and enjoying yourselves,” said Daehler. His tone had double meanings under it, but nothing that Derek hadn’t experienced before.

“Come on, enjoy! You’re too nervous!”

“Derek,” added Erica. “Help him.”

He looked at Stiles and saw his blank face and grey lips. And he was sweating. When he reached for him, Stiles jerked away.

“Oh please! Are you professional or not?” Daehler whined, approaching: “You’re models, you’re gays, you should be better than that.”

“Daehler, a word please,” ordered Erica as soon as she saw the deep frown on Derek’s face. He didn’t hear them walking away.

He didn’t move, not wanting to disturb Stiles even more. But when Allison sat on the floor before them, Stiles seemed to regain consciousness.

“Do you want to go out?” she asked and the boy nodded.

Derek just followed them to the little cafeteria. The waiter served them three coffees with no sugar nor milk.

“Can we have at least some sugar for him? Like chocolate?” he asked, bordering to rudeness.

“Only proteins’ bar. We’re a healthy cafeteria.”

That gave black coffee to a strained boy. Right. Allison put a hand on his arm, forbidding him to move along and slap the man.

“I’ve got some sweets in my bag. Be back in a minute. And please”, she told the waiter: “Tea, not coffee. He’s tired enough not to need any caffeine. Add honey. He’ll like the sweetness.”

The waiter grunted but said nothing and then Dreak and Stiles were alone. Derek knew it would be minutes before Erica would storm in to have some explanations. And she would be pissed.

“So, what happened?” He asked gently. He wasn’t used to act like this though, and didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.

Then Stiles just shrugged.

“Nothing. I guess I’m just very unprofessional.”

“I saw that Daehler made you uncomfortable, Stiles. It happens to everyone. I’d just like to know why.”

“May be you should find another model to work with you.”

Derek sighed: “It’s not like that. It’s not about me or this work, but about you. Please.”

His last word made Stiles raise his head, surprised.

“But it’s stupid!”

“Nothing is stupid if you react like this, with a panic attack.”

“Yeah. Yeah I guess. But promise me: don’t laugh.”

There was a little of the usual Stiles in there and Derek smiled. Stiles took a sip of his tea before speaking.

“I went to the gym when I was in high school. My father was the sheriff and the local fitness center gave him and me a freepass for the year. But I came out that year and then I came across some jocks from school there and they were… harsh.”

“We all experienced this. What did they do?”

“They said that it wasn’t a gay sport room and that the only stuff gay would do at the gym was to fuck.”

Stiles frowned: “I guess the guy who said that must have watched some porn to know this. Shit, I could have answered him back! I’m six years late!”

Derek let a laugh escape his lips, leading to a shy smile on Stiles’ face.

“I watched these porns myself but… it wasn’t a kink? I guess. It made me a little uncomfortable and… I don’t know, I stopped. And then I came here. And I tried to go to the gym again. A gay one. But I guess I was the guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You were hit on?”

“Yeah. The guy wasn’t that bad, but persistent. And I freaked out. I never put a foot in a gym again after that. I didn’t think that I would be that bad today but, frankly, the photographer is creepy.”

Derek shrugged: “I didn’t notice. Some photographers in the gay stuff tend to lead their photoshoot like they’re filming a porn. I’m used to it.”

“I’ve fucked up this _séance_.”

“I may have a solution. Don’t worry.”

 

***

 

“You’ve got a red hoodie.”

He didn’t say “hi”, he didn’t shake his hand, he just said that. Stiles didn’t like him. Plus, he was stupidly close to Derek, brushing him, touching him everywhere, murmuring stuff to him. That was just insane. Stiles regretted Derek’s idea immediately, but since Erica and Allison were watching them closely and wanted this shoot to be over before five, he couldn’t say anything.

“So, you’re an artist, right?”

“Isaac Lahey. I’m just giving Derek a service here. I don’t like advertisements”

And, he was a hipster. Cool. Right. Stiles hated him.

They were in a little forest near a park, with a fitness trail. Actually, they were near a spot with pull-ups. The place was nice, all gold and brown and green. The sun was still high in the sky and really, it was better than the gym.

“But Isaac is good with outdoors’ photos. It will be great.”

Stiles nodded, unsure. He had this red hoodie (well, Allison’s one), shorts and a large shirt. He liked the clothes.

“So, just play here,” instructed Isaac. “Do whatever and I’ll be around. Then we’ll jog to the next spot.”

Derek immediately jumped and grabbed the bar to make to push-ups. Ok, so that was interesting and revolting because Derek was perfect. Stiles couldn’t beat him on this. So he jumped too, caught the bar, but then lifted his legs, so he could hook the back of his knees to the bar. He let go his hands then, going upside down.

“Stiles, you’re not in a playground!”

“You said have fun, I’m having fun!”

Stile shot back and forth with Erica, and then Derek. They bet which one was going to make more push-up than the other (Derek won).

They changed their clothes then, went through another make-up sessions, then ran back and forth before Isaac’s camera. Stiles manages to jump on Derek’s back like the big kid he was, and Isaac snapped away at them.

They finished by stretching and sharing a bottle of water, again with different clothes, and Stiles didn’t see the time pass until Isaac approached him:

“I’ll need to talk to Derek about this but… I’d like you to see my work. If you want? You gave me an idea and if Derek agrees, perhaps we could work together?”

Stiles had warmed up to Isaac, just a little. The stupid jealousy was still here but Isaac was a sweet guy.

“Ok.”

“I can’t pay you. Not yet. But if you want. Ask Derek to give you a ride to my studio. And take your hoodie.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, there’s a problem in your plan, Lydia.”  
> “Which one?”  
> “Derek. If you want Stiles to be able to concentrate on his writing, you shouldn’t have made him meet Derek. Or Derek meet Stiles. They’re so cute and oblivious it’s sickening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, thank you for the comments and thank you for the kuddos and I'm hoping you'll like what I've done with all of this.  
> I like the idea of a "not to blunt" Stiles and a "quite happy and not depressed" Derek. Though each one of them has his secrets ^^  
> Stiles' relationships with science-fiction and writing is based on myself ^^

“He’s not professional.”

Erica took a sip of her chaï tea, frowning. She had one of the worst sessions of her career, thank God Derek found a solution quickly. But she still couldn’t manage the fact that one model panicked in front of one client.

Lydia took the time to read a mail before turning to her.

“I heard he had a panic attack. It can happen to everyone.”

“Lydia, he knew the place was uncomfortable to him. He should have said…”

“I know Stiles…”

“Only for two years.”

“Enough time for me.”

Lydia smiled, far more warmly than usual.

“I know Stiles. He’s not a professional, that we agree. But he has a thing for photography. You can’t deny that. He’s a natural.”

“Still…”

Lydia raised her hand, silencing Erica.

“So, if it was a strictly professional thing, I’d take back his contract or give him a warning. But Stiles is not only an employee.”

Erica rolled her eyes: “Please, you’re not his friend.”

“I’m not,” said Lydia, frankly. “But I like him. And he needs the money. I want to give him the chance.”

“But why?”

“I’ve read some of his stuff. He’s not aware of it but I had my ways. Erica, he’s got a career in writing, I’m sure of it. If I can ease his way by giving him a simple and easy job, I’ll do it.”

“Well, there’s a problem in your plan, Lydia.”

“Which one?”

“Derek. If you want Stiles to be able to concentrate on his writing, you shouldn’t have made him meet Derek. Or Derek meet Stiles. They’re so cute and oblivious it’s sickening.”

Lydia grimaced almost immediately.

“Urgh, too sugary for us, right?”

Erica nodded.

“I’m so glad I’m not the one supervising them, Erica dear. Just make sure they don’t have too much romantic drama before the end of the shooting.”

 

***

 

 

Derek had found the perfect place, a little restaurant in the South of the city, just ten minutes away from his home. He had found the perfect menu, the perfect drinks and the perfect table (isolated, a little tiny, with a great view) Of course he was a little nervous, but he thought they both needed the evening and it wouldn’t hurt any of them both to enjoy some quality time. Then, if things went well… Who knew?

So, when he received a text from Erica, he was far from being happy.

 

**To: Derek Hale.**

**Don’t you dare touch the guy before the end of your contract. Or else…**

 

“Something’s wrong?”

They just got to Stiles’ excuse for an apartment so the guy could change back in baggy jeans and a shirt before Derek proposed them going to this restaurant. He had made reservation when Stiles was shooting alone with Isaac. He had the idea just right there and knew he couldn’t let his chance pass like this. He had to do something. And now Erica was going to shoot him hard.

“No. Just some stuff to deal with. But nothing important.”

Stiles smiles: “Ok.”

They went out of the parking lot to reach the restaurant. The night was arriving pretty fast but they were still early. It looked like a date to Derek. Then, he wasn’t sure if Stiles was considering like this. May be not. Should have he been clearer with him? He wasn’t that subtle.

Derek didn’t date that much. He had bad experiences from back when he was a star child (or star teenager). After his parents’ death, he left the modeling world for a bit, then went back to it, thanks to Isaac. He started dating again. He knew the rules, the ways to have somebody in his bed or the way to have somebody in his bed and for the breakfast after. But Stiles wasn’t like anyone he had been with before. He was younger, a little out of the loop, a little intellectual and a geek. Derek couldn’t believe that Stiles had no experiences but then, if that was the case, he wouldn’t be that surprised.

“This is a pizza restaurant? Cool, I love pizzas!”

It was a quite expensive and private Italian restaurant, yes. Far from your usual pizza and sodas’ one. Derek hoped the patron hadn’t heard Stiles’ over enthusiastic remark. Jennifer had appreciated the rich but discreet setting and… Oh God, why did he have to take Stiles to a place where he already had dates? Shit, he was doing all wrong.

 

***

 

Derek seemed preoccupied and a little bit on edge. Stiles was feeling guilty about that. He still wasn’t forgiving himself for his little break down in the morning. Derek was trying to make him feel better but that wasn’t his job.

The restaurant though, looked great. But a little too expensive for his budget.

“Er, Derek,” he said as they sat at an isolated table. “Is it… expensive here?”

“Don’t worry about that. My treat.”

“Oh. Ok.”

It was a bit unnerving. It looked a bit like a date. Stiles was a bit annoyed by that. Because he was looking far too deep in Derek’s actions. The guy was nice, helping and cute. He had dated numerous people. Beautiful people. Ladies and guys, with lovely bodies, great personalities and professional situations that matched Derek’s. To put it simply: so much different from Stiles himself.

The waiter served them two glasses of _rosé_ along with breadsticks.

“I’ve tried reading the book,” started Derek, startling Stiles who was lost in the menu.

“Oh yeah? What do you think?”

“I think that if science-fiction is written that way, no wonder nobody’s reading it.”

That made Stiles laugh.

“Ah, dude! K. Dick is a classis, but thankfully authors can write much simpler than him. I read some of his novels when I was twelve. I didn’t understand anything! But still, his words are poetry. Computers’ poetry. Like these songs some singers wrote while being high. They don’t mean anything, and then they mean everything. Hm… I don’t think I’m really intelligible here.”

“No, I understand. Some contemporary art can be like that. You’re in front of a white panel wondering how the artist could call it a painting and then… you’re drowning into it.”

“Exactly!”

They talked about art and literature for an hour, letting their pizzas cool down and nearly forgetting to order a dessert. Derek finally advised Stiles to taste the chocolate tiramisu, one of his favorite ones. The boy claimed a second one while Derek drank an Italian coffee. The evening was just perfect.

“So, Isaac told me he’d like to see me as a model,” said Stiles as they were heading to Derek’s car.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he has a strange fixation on my red hoodie. He’s a strange guy, isn’t he?”

“I met him in the health center I was when… After my parents died.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say. He knew excusing himself wouldn’t help Derek anyway. So he kept silent for a while.

“I bet you were the bizarre couple of your center though,” he said after five minutes. “All people doing colorful paintings to be at ease in their minds, and you both being all moody and lonely and grumpy.”

“I was grumpy. Isaac was just silent. A lot. But when you gave him a pen… It was different. He drew my face multiple times before he even started to talk to me. You’ll see his art tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

They arrived at the car and it seemed to be the end of the conversation about Isaac. Stiles didn’t mind. He preferred talking about Derek to be honest. Get to know the guy. Maybe he could give him another book, or invite him to a movie. It was not a professional dinner, he was sure of it.

Derek seemed a little nervous though, or maybe disappointed. Stiles didn’t know why as they drove back to his apartment. When Derek stopped in front of his door and didn’t make a movement to get out of the car, Stiles felt his heart crash.

Then, he had made a fool of himself this day. He could end it by making even more a fool. Take advantage. Make a move.

So, as his door was already opened, he leant over Derek and kissed his cheek lightly.

“I don’t know if it was a date or anything but… thank you.”

“See you tomorrow,” he added as he ran to his door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a sigh on the other side of the line.  
> “Oh God, and here I thought you were all up with our favorite Big Bad Wolf. I’m disappointed Stiles. So disappointed.”  
> “You never get interested in my love life, Lydia.” Stiles frowned. She wasn’t. It was part of his past problems with her.  
> “I am. A bet may be involved. But really, that’s not why I called you Stiles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick. I'm preparing the nanowrimo 2013, and I have a novel correction to finish. So... I'm still trying to finish this one because it's fun, but the updates may be a little hard to get.

Stiles couldn’t sleep that night, confused over his actions, and frightened he had gone too far with Derek. He wasn’t that comfortable with dating, having bad past experiences with it (some wanting to just hook up for the night, others wanting nothing at all when he thought he was feeling lucky).

So he wrote. He began storing his time lines and characters, making a tidy list out of the mess he had on his walls. Then he began his script, on paper, before opening his scrivener (the only thing he bought with enthusiasm and that saved his life more than once). It was nearly six in the morning when he heard his phone ringing.

Lydia’s number appeared on the screen and Stiles cringed. Lydia was part of the people who “wanted nothing to do with him when he thought he had a chance”. And she was his boss. And he hadn’t sleep at all but had to actually work today. With Derek. On the beach. The day was going to be bad.

“Yeap?”

“Stiles? You sound horribly awake dear. And here I thought I would wake you up.”

“Er… I…”

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

“I had a great idea two days ago and it wouldn’t leave!”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line.

“Oh God, and here I thought you were all up with our favorite Big Bad Wolf. I’m disappointed Stiles. So disappointed.”

“You never get interested in my love life, Lydia.” Stiles frowned. She wasn’t. It was part of his past problems with her.

“I am. A bet may be involved. But really, that’s not why I called you Stiles.”

He sighed. Now his lack of sleep was coming back to him and he all wanted to just take a shower and curl in his bed.

“I’m sure, since you were awake all night, that you know about the storm that came to us?”

“Which storm?”

He hadn’t lend an eye through the window for hours.

“Oh Stiles. It’s been raining since ten! So, the shoot today is cancelled. I’m sending you Scott with your clothes at twelve. If you want a lunch, text him. I’ll call you back in the afternoon to put back a schedule.”

She hang up like that and the prospect of sleeping for nearly six hours was like Paradise came true so Stiles ran for his shower and put up a new pyjamas. Sleeping through the day was not news for him and he quite liked it, even if it fucked with his lifestyle’s fragile balance.

As he put the comforter on himself, his phone rang again. There was an unknown number on the screen and Stiles considered ignoring it. But his finger was already accepting it.

“Stiles Stilinski here.”

“Hi, it’s Isaac Lahey? It’s not too early?”

Stiles sank into his mattress.

“No buddy. I was actually going to sleep.”

A shy laugh answered him: “I feel you. I was up all night too. I heard from Derek your shoot got cancelled today?”

“Yeah.”

“So, want to visit my studio this afternoon? I’d like to show you what I do so if you’re interested…”

“I’d never thought an artist would actually find me interesting so now I’m curious.”

“The place is a little far though. I can send Derek.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got a driver today. Just send me your address.”

“Cool. So we say: Four this afternoon. I’ll have beer and some veggie cakes. They’re from Cora and I’m trying to feed people with them.”

Stiles laughed. Isaac was a strange guy but you could warm to him pretty quickly.

“Okay. See you!”

He dropped into sleep less than thirty seconds later.

 

***

 

“You what?”

Isaac didn’t look at him. He was concentrating on his computer, his hand tight on his mouse as he scrolled on a pack of black and white photos. They were representing various position of his last model, a girl named Kali, but he had some hard time to choose the right one.

He heard Derek walk behind him, back and forth.

“I don’t believe that you could do that to me!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen. I told you I found him interesting. Can you give me a cup of coffee? And not your sister’s one! It’s disgusting.”

Some minutes after, a cup of hot black coffee appeared before him.

“Thank you. So,” Isaac said as he turned his chair to face Derek. “What happened?”

His friend fell in the couch, the only piece of furniture in the studio, apart from Isaac own computer and drawing desk and the closet containing his cameras.

“I talk to you about all my one-night-stands, Derek. So, talk to me about your crush.”

“He kissed me.”

Isaac’s lips curved up, not quite smiling yet.

“And it’s bad because?”

“Because I hadn’t the time to catch him and stop him to leave? Because it was on the cheek and I think he didn’t know this was a date? Because I couldn’t find my words for ten minutes and then I just drove away and moped.”

“At least, you’re more realistic about your problem than when you were with Jennifer. That’s good.”

“Please… Why did you invite him over?”

“For professional purposes.”

Derek eyed him suspiciously.

“I swear!” said Isaac. “He’s really interesting.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re cute when you’ve got this little dreamy face.”

“Fuck you.”

 

***

 

“This is the place?”

Scott had parked his car along the wall of a big warehouse, all red bricks and closed windows. It looked like the set of an horror movie. But still, according to his GPS, it was Lahey’s address.

“Yep. Think so.”

“Ok, man. I’ll go with you. You’ll never know. He may be a psycho.”

Stiles looked at Scott with a frown: “You met him yesterday! How come you think he’s a psycho?”

“I may have been looking too much at our client. I may have been told by Lydia that I may have problems if I continued like that. I may have totally forgotten about Isaac.”

“Allison?”

A dream look appeared on Scott’s face: “Yeah, Allison.”

“Man, your love life sucks. You don’t remember she was speaking with Isaac all along?”

“Told you he was a psycho.”

They were at a large door and, thankfully, there was a bell so Stiles wouldn’t risk breaking his hand knocking. Isaac came to them soon after, wearing gray pants stained by red and black, and a tee-shirt which may have been white one day. In the past. He welcomed them warmly, leading them to a little kitchen to serve them coffee and the promised veggie cakes. Scott drowned on them (his mum was a veggie and he just loved the stuff) but Stiles handed Isaac a bag of cookies.

“I felt bad for you, so, here it is.”

“Thank you!”

Isaac put them on a bowl and then they all went to the studio, which was just one big room with a couch, a desk and frightening lots of paintings. With Derek.

Stiles stopped right on his feet, his mouth hanging open. The paintings were just… fantastic.

“I took lots of photos of my models,” told Isaac. “I chose them, modify them a bit on my computer, and then make prints. And then I have fun. I modify them. This is my current series.”

The three main panels represented Derek, nearly naked, baring his chest with his arms extended and hands tight. The first panel was just black and white and Stiles noticed some traces of painting above the photo print. Then second one had more modification, like a transformation of the hands, the nose, the eyes and so on. There was a little bit of red but it was discreet. The last one presented a man, still Derek, but with a wolf’s head. It was so breath taking that Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes apart from them.

“I’m working on a fairy tale theme,” explained Isaac behind him. “I found a woman who would be my witch. It’s disconcerting how many models you can find to play the _bad guys_. I’ve more problems for the _good guys_ though.”

“Man, that’s fantastic. I mean it.”

Stiles turned to Isaac: “Sincerely. I could watch them all day long. You’re a genius?”

Isaac blushed a little. Near them, Scott laughed: “don’t worry, Stiles is always direct to people. When he doesn’t like something, he says it. Same when he likes something.”

“Yeah, it can be annoying sometimes,” added Stiles.

He took a deep breath.

“So, why did you want me for?”

“Here’s the deal. Derek has been my model for three years now. Here is the Wolf. And I need a Red Hood and I think you’ll be perfect for it.”

“Really? Hm… What does Derek think about it?”

Isaac just shrugged: “I don’t care. He was here sooner but I won’t ask for his opinion. Well, except if you really hate each other. That could be a problem.”

There was a wink in Isaac’s eyes and Stiles just knew, knew that like Lydia he was making fun of them.

“Man, that’s so cool…”

They watched as Scott walked to another piece of art. It was a black and yellow portrait of a woman raising a sword.

“Oh, this is my Knights’ series. I don’t know how to work with it…”

Isaac joined Scott and they began talking about chivalry, knight, Dark Ages and, Stiles thought, RPGs. He stayed there, looking at the Wolf’s panels. His mind was running wild. It was inspiring. It crashed onto his current project and he couldn’t just stop.

So he did the only thing he could do. He sat on the floor, took a notebook out of his bag and began taking notes.

**Author's Note:**

> http://fourrureetcapuche.tumblr.com/


End file.
